


Affairs at Cairnkirk

by citruses



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Epistolary, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citruses/pseuds/citruses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My dearest Grace -- for indeed, there is none dearer to me -- how I long to see you again, and our parting only a few hours since!" Three letters written in the course of one spring season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affairs at Cairnkirk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round Two of the 2nd Fanmedia Challenge at ninth_eagle on LJ, inspired by the picture of the green settee, and also, again, by Sineala's wonderful post featuring icons of every woman in The Eagle. This time I picked the two women Marcus gets in trouble for smiling at. In my neverending quest to write about more women in this fandom, I've turned them into gay letter-writing daughters of the Scottish gentry, in a period drama AU. No, I don't know, either.

**_Affairs at Cairnkirk_** _: being three letters written in the course of a spring season, concerning the affairs of Cairnkirk Estate, in the lands of Lord Selkoe: this Estate being situated near Cairnkirk village, in a certain quarter of the Scottish Southern Uplands; the first letter being addressed from Lord Selkoe's daughter, Miss Cairnkirk, to her cousin at Bath; the second from that same cousin to Miss Cairnkirk a month later, following her visit to the Estate; and the third having been found some years afterward, secreted in the possessions of one M. Aquila, groundsman of that same Estate._  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
My dear Felicity,  
  
How is Bath? Papa absolutely insists that we must remain at Cairnkirk another three months at least, although I have laboured long to make him understand how very dreary I find it here without the company of anybody interesting. If only more of our friends could be prevailed upon to visit; but I fear they are discouraged by the lengthy journey and our frequent reports of bad weather. Still, not all is gloom: Esca (that is our ghillie) says that the estate is thriving, so perhaps some of Papa's circle will be enticed by the prospect of good hunting.  
  
Since I was last here we have also acquired a new groundsman -- a strange fellow, Italian, with an odd limp -- and the surliest one you ever saw, who when he thinks nobody watches him, has a habit of looking at Esca as though he should like to tear the poor man's throat out -- though the grounds do seem to be improving under him, if rather slowly. At least, they are not quite as wild as you must remember them, from your visits when we were children! What a wilderness we made it in our imaginations, one day a jungle, the next Sherwood Forest, and we played at being Merry Men of Robin Hood, fleeing the Sheriff.  
  
How I wish you might succeed in convincing your papa to bring you north for a visit, if only out of kindness, to spare me the tedium of a further quarter here alone! As you may read for yourself, Felicity, there is nothing here to keep me occupied but the servants and the grounds, and my own mind. I keep asking Papa if we may not take a trip down to Edinburgh, but he says he wishes to remain here amongst 'our people', though the last time he spoke directly with anybody from Cairnkirk village must surely be more than a year since. I think he is rather happy here in the wilds (or at least, as happy as he may be while my brother is away at soldiery) -- but my heart longs for some excitement.  
  
In my extremity of boredom, I have even, once again, attempted the Misses Bronte, and yet again failed: I know you adore them, but I find all they write to be dreadfully slow-moving. I would rather a love-poem than a novel any day! But near all of my books are down at Ellisfield, and the library here is simply awful. If you come, you must bring me something by Lord Byron: something tempestuous and passionate, to match the weather which beats so insistently on my bedroom window at nights.  
  
With best wishes to dear Uncle George and Aunt Aurora,  
  
Your affectionate cousin,  
  
Grace  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
My dearest Grace -- for indeed, there is none dearer to me -- how I long to see you again, and our parting only a few hours since! How often, when Mama has said something to me on our southward journey, or Papa motioned for me to look out of the carriage-window at some sight or other, have I found myself cold and bereft of a sudden, as if woken from a wonderful dream of paradise to find the real world a stale disappointment -- but it was only the memory of our talk, our embraces, from which I awoke. Indeed, how stale and colourless the whole world seems, now that we are parted: for truly, my darling, I esteem your companionship so highly that I find myself quite incapable of passing an hour in my Grace-less state without memories of you entering softly into my mind; how you walked with me in the grounds -- how we hid from our fathers and laughed at their anger -- how beautifully green your eyes appeared by candlelight. Oh, it is torment to remember you without having you near, to see and touch and speak to! But I find I cannot, do not want to, avoid it.  
  
I am overthrown, my darling Grace; quite overthrown. It may not beseem a proper young lady to speak of such matters, much less to commit them to paper -- but I confess I find myself quite obsessed with the memory of one particular afternoon; I wonder if you remember it? Oh, you must, for it remains so vividly imprinted upon my mind -- we were taking tea with my Mama in the southerly withdrawing-room, both seated upon one couch, and your left hand and my right were each placed beside ourselves upon the dark green fabric, so that only the interval of an inch prevented them from touching; and I longed so heartily for you to reach across and brush your finger along mine, or touch my wrist with your fingertips, perhaps, or any thing else that might convince me you returned that singular feeling which burned -- which still burns -- within the very core of me... That very morning we had watched the ghillie help the new groundsman with his work, do you recall? The way they stood close, heads bowed in, seeming to be talking about the state of the grounds -- the memory of what we had stumbled upon behind the orchard-fence a few evenings before -- the strange heat in the ghillie's eyes as he watched the groundsman labouring in the sun -- and how I thought I saw the same heat in yours when my Mama went to the window to look out over the estate, and taking advantage of the unobserved moment, we turned to each other and your hand found mine --  
  
I have written too much already, and god forbid this letter reach any eyes other than your own dear ones, so bright with their colour like a sunlit ocean; but, my darling, writing this letter seems both to have soothed the anguish I feel at being parted from you, by allowing me the respite of my memory, and to have made my longing for you all the greater, by reminding me that we are parted! Until I hear from you I will hardly breathe, hardly sleep, hardly  _live_  -- the memory of your lips upon my neck, the tumbling dark weight of your hair -- our rapturous hours by the loch -- oh Grace, oh my darling! -- but alas, we are quitting the inn now, and I must leave off.  
  
I remain yours -- most truly, most passionately --  
  
Felicity  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Marcus,  
  
You were right. I did not think that golden eagles would ever return to live on the Cairnkirk estate, but here they are at last. I must thank you for your perseverance.  
  
Miss Cairnkirk's purposes have changed and she now intends to remain here indefinitely. Her cousin Miss Felicity Leslie, who visited during your engagement at Cairnkirk, means to join her here for the summer, and perhaps longer. I am told that the two young ladies anticipate many long trips up to the Loch, alone. They may even chance to see the eagles, if they know where to look, and are not distracted by other activities.  
  
As for the contents of the rest of your letter: foolish man, why on earth did you not speak them before you left? Well, I confess myself quite amenable to your suggestions. Indeed, I assent to all your requests; and I await your return to Cairnkirk, and to my employ -- if I may phrase it so.  
  
Between Miss Cairnkirk, Miss Leslie, yourself and me, it seems we shall make quite the household.

Esca


End file.
